


set the world on fire (and watch from the centre of the flames)

by guanlin



Series: never wipe tears without gloves [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, also the fact they wore gas masks idk why, assassins!au, basically stray kids are forced to suffer, basically theyre power rangers, but they love each other - Freeform, but theyre not!, inspired partially by hellevator, side changlix, side hyunIN, the kids are deceived to believe their partner is dead, the power of love gets them through, they kiss but its not wild so, this is a whole lot of suffering to be honest, trust stray kids to look good in gas masks, woochan rein superior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guanlin/pseuds/guanlin
Summary: “Leave it, Chan,” he spits, “I love you, but we’re part of something much bigger than us. Part of something that doesn’t discriminate between who loves each other more.”or, alternatively:They’re a team of nine, born and raised into the Tsujigiri programme - a set of elite children carefully selected and groomed to become the best team of government-trained assassins the world has ever seen.





	set the world on fire (and watch from the centre of the flames)

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of a series!! It might make a little more sense if you read the [previous work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100544) just to get a bit of background but you'll be fine if you choose not to as well!! Basically the Tsujigiri team is stray kids, and they've been together since they were very young and raised by the government. They're all v skilled in combat, manipulation, riddles etc but because they're all so young they're still training!! they get put through these assessments to test their progress. each member of the team has a 'partner' (e.g. chan and woojin) and these are the people they spend most of their time with, do their training with etc so they're Extremely close to their partner or 'accessory' as they're called in the previous fic!! i honestly have no idea whether this makes any sense or not but please enjoy reading!

The nine of them are quiet as they walk into the training building. Their command is there waiting for them, a tight smile on his face. Something tells Chan from his body language, shoulders tight, hands clasped together in front of him, that this is going to be bad. Anxiety pools, quick and hot, in his stomach and even though he’s making such an effort to maintain his cool, to appear the unfazed, goofy leader he’s always managed to, he can tell Woojin picks up his feelings without even looking at him. They’ve done this a thousand times before, made this trek down to the training building even more but the atmosphere is colder than it usually is, everyone tense and deep in thought when, usually, they’d be laughing and chattering, Jisung and Felix shoving at each other to see who would trip over first. Today, it’s not like that. Last week, Changbin and Felix came home from their individual tests clinging to each other, covered in blood, and severely shaken up. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had some pretty bad tests before because they _have -_ they’re _assassins_ after all - but none that had ever made Felix cry, or Changbin’s hands shake for hours afterward. Seeing two of their strongest, completely torn to pieces, had put them all on edge and the way their command is acting does nothing than to confirm his suspicions. All of them approach the older man, Chan first, Woojin a step behind and then the rest of them trailing after. The man nods a greeting and the nine of them bow in response. 

“So,” the man begins. Chan hates the sound of his voice, “you know what you have to do, yes?”

He looks expectantly at Chan, and Chan is so out of it Woojin has to nudge him in the side for him to let out a startled noise and then nod jerkily. Command smiles tightly then steps away from the door to the prep room, where they have roughly five minutes to grab their weapons and suit up before the test actually begins. 

 

Chan steps forward and the door slides open automatically. The prep room is sleek, modern and all stark white, with bright lights that highlight the dark circles under Woojin’s eyes when Chan turns around to face him. The nine of them file in, still silent and Chan longs for the sound of Jisung’s screeching or Hyunjin’s loud laughter or even just Woojin’s voice, deep and calm and _grounding_. When Felix gets to the door, he falters stepping over the threshold and Chan has a feeling the only reason he actually does is Changbin’s hand on his waist, pushing him in gently but firmly. Everyone beelines immediately for the weapons table, the only splash of dark in the whole room. Each one of them picks up their weapon of choice - most of them specialise in hand to hand combat and even those that don’t are trained enough to defend themselves. Chan reaches for the set of butterfly knives at the far end of the table. The cool slide of the metal against his skin comforts him a little, lets him know he’s still in control. 

“Chan?” Woojin murmurs from next to him and Chan turns around. It’s reflex for Chan to reach both hands out to help Woojin clip the complicated quiver of arrows across his chest. He can feel Woojin watching him whilst he laces all of the components together and he feels strangely naked - Woojin can see right through him, he always has been able to. Their eyes meet for a second and Chan is glad that he has an excuse for breaking their eye contact, eyes landing back on his own fingers tying a deft knot. 

“Are you okay?” Woojin murmurs lowly. He has his back to the others, and Chan’s crouching down in front of him, so they’re essentially sheltered from prying eyes. Chan wonders distantly whether Woojin did this on purpose. He briefly considers lying, telling Woojin that yes, he’s okay, just tired but they’re far too close for the older boy to not see through that one. Instead, Chan doesn’t answer until he finishes attaching the last clips on Woojin’s quiver, buying himself some time to think about how he’s going to answer. He doesn’t want to worry Woojin, and if he could get away with lying he probably would but it’s _Woojin_ and he can’t. He stands up, and their faces are dangerously close. Neither of them move. 

“Yeah,” Chan murmurs, keeping his voice quiet so none of the kids can hear, “It’s just…this feels _wrong_ , you know?” He waits for Woojin to react but when he doesn’t, he carries on, “I’ve never seen command this…tense before and what happened to Changbin and Felix last week - I can’t help but feel like somethings going to happen.”

Woojin’s gaze softens, and he reaches out to grab Chan’s clammy hand in his own, squeezing. 

 

 

“I knew you were worried,” he says, smiling so gently that his eyes curve up. Chan’s heart does a _skip, skip, jump_ in his chest, “ _Chris_ , you know we have to do this no matter what. The best thing we can do is go into it as prepared as we can be.”  
Chan barely registers anything past Woojin’s voice, dripping honey, saying his _real_ name, not the one the government had given him. He nods anyway, forcing a weak smile back and squeezing Woojin’s hand just as hard. 

“The others are tense as well,” he says, “I want to reassure them, but how can I when I can’t even reassure myself?”

Woojin pulls Chan’s hand up to his mouth and presses a careful kiss to his knuckles. 

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Chan. We all know you’re not superhuman.”

Chan takes a deep breath but it catches in his throat. He lowers his voice even further. 

“It just feels like things are changing,” he says, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

Woojin doesn’t even bother trying to reply, just pulls Chan into his chest. The younger winds his hands into Woojin’s dark shirt, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. Hyunjin watches him from over Jeongin’s shoulder, where he’s helping their youngest wrap a weapons belt round his waist. He quirks an eyebrow, but Chan just offers him a small smile, shaking his head gently. 

 

On the wall to their left, a clock is projected, showing 01:00 in bright red letters. All of them quickly cease whatever they’re doing, and Chan tries not to miss the feeling of Woojin’s body pressed tight against his, instead turning away from Woojin and their own little world to face the rest of the group. 

“Are you ready?” he asks them. It’s times like these where he realises exactly what they must look like to everyone else. All traces of their mundane life, their wins and their losses, their tears and laughter and smiles have been completely removed. They are _assassins_ and looking at them standing in front of him, faces serious, armed to the teeth in weaponry, he can see _exactly_ why people should be scared of them. He receives seven tight nods, and Woojin’s hand on his shoulder nods for him. Chan doesn’t have to say anything, the rest of them seem to know it’s time to assemble by the door. The clock reaches thirty and a flat voice starts counting down. Chan can hear Jeongin’s breathing speed up from next to him, and he reaches out blindly to grab the younger boy’s hand. He squeezes once, then twice, then let’s go when they reach the final ten seconds of the countdown. Chan takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. The doors starts sliding back into the walls, revealing the training room. New technology has allowed the government to change the walls, floor and ceiling into any design they want - essentially allowing them to give the illusion that the group are anywhere they want them to be. Today, everything is grey. The floor is dark concrete, the walls too, whilst the ceiling is high and arched, painted grey. A gust of cold air hits them as they all step forward cautiously, each of their chosen weapons raised. In the back of his mind, Chan registers the door sliding shut behind them. When he turns around, it’s already blended into grey. There’s no escaping this now. 

 

To his left, there’s a sharp tinkling noise, and every single one of them spins around, weapons out, ready to face whatever it is that’s posing a threat to their family. Chan throws an arm out, crowding Woojin behind him and it amuses him to see that half of stray kids does that with their own partner. The lightbulb illuminating the room shatters above them, and all of them drop to the floor, both Chan and Woojin reaching to cover each other’s head from the glass that showers down on them. The room is thrown into complete and utter pitch black, so thick that it feels like a physical thing, pressing, heavy, against Chan’s eyeballs. The only thing letting him know he’s still alive is the feeling of Woojin’s chest heaving against his forearm. 

“Is everyone okay?” he calls out. There’s a trickle of blood running down his forehead from a stray glass shard cutting him on it’s way down. He hastily wipes it away, straining to hear anything else between the sounds of the kids confirming their safety. Felix is halfway through confirming his and Changbin’s when he’s cut off, his voice replaced instead by a strangled choking sound. Before Chan can even begin to respond, he, too, is grabbed around the neck and dragged upright from the floor. He scrambles to find purchase on Woojin’s body and he can taste the fear at the back of his throat, pungent and metallic. He struggles against the hands but they won’t relent. Chaos has erupted around them and yet Chan’s ears are tuned only to Woojin’s cries - or the _absence_ of them. He kicks out blindly, and he’s almost triumphant when his foot collides with something hard and he hears a strangled shout from the people holding him still. However, it only seems to make them hold onto him tighter, the hands on his throat leaving and instead moving to hold his arms in place. 

“Woojin!” he screams, still trying to thrash out pointlessly against the bonds that are too strong for him to get out of. With his sight and mobility out of the picture, he’s disorientated and desperate, breath coming in quick, short gasps. His ears seem tuned to pick out any little noises Woojin could make, even against the screams and grunts of his teammates screaming for each other and trying to escape their own hold. 

“Woojin!” he tries again, and when he gets no reply, his fear increases ten fold. Somewhere on his right, he can hear Jeongin’s voice, straining to find Hyunjin, his own partner. Slowly, he registers Changbin shouting for Felix, Jisung for Minho and Seungmin. None of them get a reply. 

 

 

Through the haze of fear and panic settled down like a fog over his brain, Chan realises that they’ve each had their partner removed from them, and taken somewhere they can’t reach. He takes a couple of shuddering breaths, eyes darting around in an attempt to make out _anything_ in this godforsaken room, even though it’s just about as useful as staring at the backs of his own eyelids. 

“Jeongin!” he shouts instead, and the other boys shouts calm down.  
“C-Chan-hyung?” the younger boy shouts, and it breaks Chan’s heart to hear their youngest so afraid. 

“Jeongin they’ve taken our partners, okay?” he tells him, “Don’t panic and don’t resist them! You hear that Jisung, Changbinn-ie? They’ve got the others, alright? Don’t resist them, we want to keep the others as safe as possible!” 

The room immediately falls into silence as the thought of the rest of their team getting more hurt than they might already be because of _them_ having a profound effect. Chan breathes hard through his nose, gritting this teeth. 

“What do you want from us?” he hisses, and the hands behind him tighten around his arms. He doesn’t get a reply. All he can hear is the guy behind him breathing, and Chan has never, ever felt more like hurting someone than he does now. He swallows hard and tips his head back, focusing on his breathing instead of wrapping his hands around this guys throat. There’s silence for _minutes_ after that and every second of it Chan becomes more and more anxious.What had they done to them that meant they couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even confirm that they were alive? Chan doesn’t want to assume the worst, _can’t_ even comprehend the fact that they could have just killed the others, used them as control subjects to weed out who the _real_ assassins were. He’s about to start shouting again when five lights spotlights flick on.

 

They’re in the centre of the room, and Chan is temporarily dazzled by the bright white of them. He hears Jisung groan at the brightness and almost shushes him before his breath is knocked out of him by what he sees in front of him. Under the spotlight closest to him, Woojin stands there, someone dressed in all black behind him, one hand in Woojin’s hair, pulling his head back and the other one with a knife pressed to his throat. The blade glints menacingly in the light and Chan starts trying to wriggle out of his bonds, the sight of Woojin with a knife to his throat striking anger and fear through him all at once. He grunts with the effort, and then with pain when the guy holding him delivers a knee to his groin while someone else kicks him in the ribs. He hears a sickening crack and then cries out as the pain reaches him. Woojin whimpers in front of him, and Chan shakes his head, eyes wide as a sign for Woojin not to do anything. The man behind the oldest tightens his grip, and another hot bolt of anger shoots through Chan at Woojin wincing in pain. 

“Don’t you try anything, pretty boy,” the man says, making eye contact with Chan over Woojin’s shoulder. The man smirks at him, and then leans over to lick a line up Woojin’s neck. His vision turns red, and Chan manages to force an elbow back into the face of his captor, relishing in the sound of his nose breaking. The man cries out and loosens his grip and Chan takes it as an opportunity to pull a knife from his belt and spin around on his attackers, taking a couple of steps towards Woojin, even with his back to him. He only stops moving when the same man from before speaks out again. His hands are shaking.

“If you take one more step over here,” he says, and Chan has never felt more _angry_ in his life, “Your boyfriend and all of the other pretty boys in this circle die.”

 

 

“ _Fuck_!” Chan spits out, before chucking his knife to the ground and stepping back towards the two guys that had previously been holding him still. One of them still has a hand to his nose, and the other one steps forward and punches Chan in the face. He doesn’t cry out or fall over, just spits the blood out of his mouth and turns around to be grabbed into a hold again. 

“You’re going to regret that,” the broken nose man whispers against his neck, and Chan’s blood runs completely cold. His chest is still heaving and he finds he can’t even bear to look at Woojin, frightened and helpless, anymore so instead tries to survey the rest of the room. The others are there, too, each with a blade against their necks. Jeongin is crying, Changbin is cursing, straining against his hold and Jisung is just standing there, staring helplessly at his partners. Chan can’t even bring himself to look at the rest, instead slumping down defeatedly in his bonds. His arms are pinned to his back, so he can’t even _try_ and reach for the other knifes that are slotted into his belt. 

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” another voice says, and Chan’s head whips around, trying to place where the voice is coming from. It seems to be coming from everywhere all at once, “We have only one winner. The spotlights will choose the picker, and then the lights will land on two of the people in the middle ring. The picker will have to choose which person they want to save. The one they don’t pick will be subsequently hurt, and the winner is the last one standing.”

The voice cuts off. Dread fills every crevice of Chan’s body, it’s like a nightmare. He’s the _leader_ , how is he meant to choose between the members of his team? 

 

The spotlights are suddenly shut off, and they’re all cast into darkness once again. Chan’s heart is beating out of his chest and he’s never been so scared in his life. He closes his eyes to try and calm himself down, immediately thinking of Woojin and his warmth and kindness and brown eyes and strong hands. Miraculously, he manages to slow his breathing down a little. The spotlights flick back on again and begin circling around like some sick game show, like falcons teasing their pray before swooping down and eating them whole. Chan doesn’t believe in God and yet he prays that neither him nor Woojin get picked, that they miraculously make it out of this without having to put their friendships and their bonds on the line. The lights finally pick their targets and Chan lets out a shaky breath of relief to see that neither him nor Woojin has been picked. They make eye contact, and Chan prays that his eyes convey everything he wants Woojin to know. Instead, the lights have landed on Felix and Hyunjin in the middle, and then Changbin in the outer circle. Felix is sobbing in the middle, Hyunjin is shaking his head as best as he can, only looking at Jeongin. The youngest is crying too, big shuddering sobs and he’s begging and begging because if Changbin _does_ have to choose, everyone knows who he’s going to pick. However, for now, Changbin is putting up a fight, growling and thrashing out and screaming because he’s having to pick between his _best friend_ and _partner._

“Take a pick, Changbin,” the voice says, and the teasing tone makes Chan feel sick to his stomach. 

“ _No,”_ Changbin spits out, and then he’s screaming, “ _Fuck you!_ ”

The voice doesn’t seem to register the comment. 

 

 

“Changbin, you have ten seconds. If you don’t choose, both Felix and Hyunjin will be out of the game.”

“No!” Chan finds himself shouting, even though he knows it won’t do anything. 

Hyunjin is trying to comfort Jeongin now, even with a knife against his throat. 

“Please don’t…” Chan catches, “…going to be okay…love you.”  
Jeongin sobs again, hand clenching and unclenching by his side as if to reach for Hyunjin. The man begins counting down.  
“Nine.”

Changbin is still trying to struggle against his bonds. Woojin is crying now, too and it physically hurts Chan to have to see it and not be able to wipe the tears away himself. 

“Eight.”

Jeongin takes a deep shuddering breath. 

“Please!” he shouts, staring upwards as if to address god himself, “Please! I’ll do anything…please.”  
“Seven.”

Nothing happens. Changbin has his eyes closed. 

“Six.”

Jeongin has his head bowed low, although Chan can hear him still, murmuring ‘please’ over and over again. 

“Five.”  
Felix sobs, and this time so does Hyunjin. 

“Changbinnie…” Felix whispers, and then mouths something to Changbin that Chan can’t decipher. 

“Four.”  
Nothing. 

“Three.”  
Still nothing.

“Two.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Changbin sobs, going weak against his bonds. 

“One.”

There’s quiet and then, finally.   
“Felix.”  
“No!” Felix shouts, the same time as Jeongin does. 

The light over Hyunjin stutters then blinks out, and Chan hears a strangled groan before a thumping sound and then, finally, silence. 

 

Chan’s breath stutters in his chest and he’s straining to hear any sounds of Hyunjin being alive. Chan’s never seen Woojin look so frightened. 

“I will never forgive you!” Felix screams, face red and tear-streaked, “You should have let me die instead!”

Changbin doesn’t even look at him, face bowed down and shoulders shaking. Chan feels empty, hollowed out like he’s missing something vital but he can’t place a finger on what it is. It’s subtle, butcompletely present like someone’s turned one of his organs inside out. He can’t even begin to digest the fact that they’ve lost Hyunjin yet, can only think about the members they’ve yet to lose. 

“One down,” the voice says, “Three more to go. Who’s turn is it now?”

The lights flick off again, and then begin to whizz around the room, choosing their next victims. Chan closes his eyes again and wishes on every single lucky star out there that _it’s not Woojin_. He feels the heat of the light against his face and he can’t even open his eyes for a couple of seconds because he’s so scared to see what he’s going to find. Jeongin is still sobbing, but now Changbin is too. 

“Oh, _God_ ,” he hears Jisung say and he finally forces his eyes open. 

 

Woojin and Felix are lit up. Chan lets out a choked sob. 

“ _Please, no_ ,’’ he groans, “I’ll do anything, _please not them_.”

The voice says nothing. 

“Kill me instead,” he begs, hot tears making tracks down his cheeks and he’s struggling against his bonds again, so much so that he’s delivered another blow to his ribs, where they’ve already been snapped. He cries out, and slumps back against the people behind him so much they’re practically holding him up. 

“You have five seconds,” the voice says. 

Chan lifts his head up, looks at Woojin. Chan knows exactly what he’s saying. 

_Save Felix, please._

“Four.”

He looks to Felix, the boy he practically raised, his friend, his _brother_. 

“Three.”  
He looks to Changbin, who’s gazing pleadingly at him, begging him to save his partner.This is the hardest thing Chan will ever have to do. Everything feels like a nightmare. 

“Two.”

“I’m sorry,” he criesout, “I’m so sorry.”

“One.”  
“Woojin,” he says, so quietly he’s sure in any normal situation, no one would have been able to hear it. Here though, everyone does. Changbin screams, and Chan sobs but Woojin doesn’t do anything except stare at Chan and the coldness in his eyes only makes Chan sob harder. Felix’s light blinks out, the sound of his and Changbin’s sobbing drowns out the sound of his body hitting the floor. 

 

Chan zones out for a while after that, can only keep his eyes fixed on Woojin because he’s frightened that if he doesn’t, he’ll blink and the older boy will be gone. He’s so so painfully frightened and guilty and _exhausted._ He only becomes aware again when the lights flicker and then the one in front of him remains on. He sobs again, louder this time because he can’t do anything to save him. Jeongin has to choose between Seungmin and Woojin. Chan pleads and sobs so loud he can’t hear a single thing, he only knows it’s over when Woojin’s light blinks out and he hears the thump. His brain loses focus. Jisung has to choose between his two partners. Chan’s restrainers let him fall to his knees. He’s finally quieted down, staring at the spot where he last saw Woojin, pissed off but alive. Jisung is screaming, but it’s like Chan is underwater, everything around him slow and low and hazy. The final two lights flicker off at the same time. Jisung didn’t choose. The people holding onto Chan let him go and he falls forward into the darkness.

 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there for. There are no sounds of movement, or at least he can’t hear them anyway. One of the blades from his knives is pressing against his thigh. He can feel the skin breaking but he can’t bring himself to care. The lights come back on and Chan is so scared they’re doing it again but when he lifts his head slightly, the whole room is illuminated. He blinks against the light, eyes aching and raw and crawls blindly to where he _knows_ Woojin’s body will be.He reaches out to feel him but only feels the cold of the concrete. He feels around, and when he feels nothing, finally forces himself to look up. The remaining four of them are all in various states of distress. The room is empty save for them. Jisung sits with his back against the wall, head tilted back. Jeongin is crumpled against the floor, head in his hands and Changbin is pacing the length of the room behind him. Chan sniffs then pushes himself off of his hands and up into a standing position. 

“W-where are they?” he murmurs, and Changbin stops pacing. 

“Probably taken them with them,” he spits and Chan feels so _guilty_.

He approaches the younger boy carefully, and then when he establishes that Changbin isn’t going to hit him (he’s already got broken ribs), he gets a little closer to him. 

“Changbin…” he says carefully, and it’s only now that he’s remembering he’s their _leader_. He’s supposed to be guiding and supporting them, not completely losing his mind when he loses someone. The other doesn’t respond, but he stops pacing and comes to stand in front of him instead. 

“I’m,” Chan begins but stops again when his voice cracks. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. He needs to be there for the remaining team, now more than ever, “I’m _so, so_ sorry. I’m supposed to be the leader and I should have done something to stop this before it was too late but now we’ve lost half of our team and I am so _so_ sorry about Felix, I had absolutely no idea what to do and I just…panicked, I guess.”

Changbin is quiet for a few seconds before he looks up. 

“Hyung, I…I forgive you. That was an impossible situation and I know how much Woojin means to you, because Felix means the same to me. You saw that I did the same for Fe with Hyunjin. We need you, now. More than we ever have so let’s just…focus on getting through this, okay?” 

Jeongin and Jisung suddenly appear next to them, both of their faces swollen from crying. Chan takes one look at them and opens up his arms. All of them fall into his chest and Chan cradles them into him, allowing himself to cry with them. He looks up to the sound of the door sliding open. 

 

Their command stands there, a smile on his face so tight that Chan wishes he would just allow himself to look sorry instead because seeing him try to smile whilst their whole entire _world_ has been torn from them only makes him more angry. He lets go of the remaining kids and marches up to their command, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. He backs him up into the wall of the prep room, slamming him hard against the concrete. 

“ _Where are they_?” he spits. Command isn’t trying to fight back or escape his hold, “What have you done with them?”

“Chan…” Command begins but Chan doesn’t even let him finish, pulling back and slamming him back against the concrete wall so hard the man lets out a cry. 

“You killed them!” Chan screams, “You killed _him_!”

He’s crying again now, because he’s lost Woojin, and he’s lost Felix and Hyunjin and Minho and Seungmin and that’s his _family_. He beats his fist weakly against Command’s chest, head hanging between his shoulderblades. 

“Chris _,_ ” a voice from behind him says, and Chan doesn’t even register it for a while, too busy asking their command half-sobbed questions. He’s so _so_ tired. 

“ _Chris_ ,” the voice says again and Chan cries even harder because only Woojin called him that and he’s not _here._ And then, suddenly, there’s familiar hands on him, pulling him backwards into a familiar chest and lowering both of them carefully to the floor. 

“ _I’m here_ ,” Woojin murmurs. Is he hallucinating? Is Woojin really here? It doesn’t matter, for now, all that matters is that Woojin is in front of him, and his heart is beating and he’s _beautiful_. Woojin’s eyes are wet with tears, shining with unshed ones and he is the most gorgeous thing Chan has ever seen. 

“Y-you were dead,” he whimpers, hands reaching up to cup Woojin’s face. Woojin closes his eyes, as if it pains him to hear Chan say it, and turns his head into Chan’s hand. 

“I know, Chris,” Woojin says, hands coming up to wrap around Chan’s body, pulling Chan to rest against his shoulder. 

“Please don’t leave again,” Chan murmurs. He passes out. 

 

*

 

When Chan wakes up, he’s in the hospital wing, and he is alone. He’s still in the clothes he was when he did the test, except the shirt has been cut open to expose his ribs, which are heavily bandaged. He’s numb to the pain of it, for now - too focused on trying to work out whether or not Woojin _is_ still alive. There’s no one on the wing, and Chan doesn’t have it in him to shout. He feels numb and raw at the same time, like something vital has been torn away from him. He stares down at his hands, and another bolt of panic shoots through him because the silver band he keeps on his left middle finger is gone. He and Woojin had both had these rings, had got them when they were eleven and had worn them every day ever since. If Woojin _is_ dead, thenHe looks frantically towards the table next to him, hoping to see the ring but failing. He sits up and begins searches the floor around him. He’s panicking again, chest heaving and he’s about to pull out his cannula and start screaming for help when there’s a gentle knock on the door. Felix puts his head round the frame and Chan lets out a physical sigh of relief. 

“ _Felix_ ,” he gasps out, “You’re alive!”

He smiles, and Felix smiles back, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. 

“Yeah, hyung, I’m alive,” the younger boy tells him, “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I’m feeling fine, I guess,” Chan replies, “How are _you_ feeling?”

Felix sits down on the edge of his bed, hand reaching down to fiddle with the covers. 

“Fine. Scared. Changbin-hyung is…messed up, if I’m honest, hyung. He hardly ever lets me leave his side, even though I’m still pissed at him, and he hasn’t let me out of his sight yet until now.”

Chan nods, staring at Felix’s hand. 

“But I thought I needed to come here and tell you…I’m not mad at you Chan-hyung. I know it was an impossible situation and…you love Woojin-hyung.”  
“I love you, too,” Chan reminds him gently and Felix smiles, shakes his head.

“Not like you love Woojin. It’s fine, Chan. We’re _all_ going to be fine.”  
“How’s everyone else?” he asks, “Everyone okay, right?”

Felix nods again, patting his hand. 

“Jeongin-ie is in the h-wing getting treated for shock, but Hyunjin’s with him. He’ll be alright.”

Chan breathes another sigh of relief and they fall into silence for a while. 

 

“Why isn’t Woojin here?” Chan finally asks. It seems like everyone else is back with their partners except for him. Felix stills his administrations with the duvet cover and looks away from him. 

“He…uh, he said he…doesn’t want to see you,” he says quietly. 

Chan’s heart sinks. 

“W-why?”

The younger shakes his head. 

“It’s because of me,” Felix tells him, “He’s upset you chose him over me.”  
Chan chews on his lip. He opens his mouth to speak, but finds he doesn’t have anything to say. He supposes he can’t be surprised, Woojin is completely selfless, he always has been. Felix stands and dusts invisible lint off of his trousers. 

“He’ll come round,” he tells him. He manages to reach the door before Chan stops him. 

“Where’s my ring?” he calls out. 

“Woojin has it,” Felix replies before the door slams shut. 

 

 

He returns to the dorms the following day, walking gingerly because of his ribs. He’s not surprised to find Woojin not there, he’s extremely good at avoiding people when he wants to be. When he walks into their living room, Changbin and Felix are sitting at opposite ends of the couch, Felix with his head in a book and Changbin pretending to watch the television, even though Chan knows he’s just keeping an eye on Felix. 

“Chan-hyung!” Changbin exclaims when he sees him and Felix is immediately shutting his book, jumping up to throw himself at Chan. Chan catches him willingly, even if it hurts his ribs more than he’s willing to admit. 

“Broken ribs,” he breathes out and Felix immediately lets go of him, letting out a stream of apologies. Jeongin and Hyunjin emerge from their bedroom, both with their hair mussed up from sleep. Jeongin smiles sleepily at him, and Hyunjin waves a lazy hand from behind his partner. 

“How’s the shock, Jeongin-ie?” Chan asks and Jeongin looks a little embarrassed, stepping back into Hyunjin’s chest. 

“Fine, hyung,” he answers, “How’re the ribs?”  
“Healing.”

Jeongin smiles gently, small, but a smile nonetheless and Chan feels something settle in his chest, something fall back into place. Jisung and Minho appear from the door adjacent to them. 

“Hey, hyung,” Jisung says. He looks tired - they all do. Chan kind of knew it wouldn’t be just him that was suffering from insomnia. 

“Where’s Seungmin?” he finds himself asking.

“Asleep,” Minho says. 

They all fall into silence for a while, no one really sure how to approach each other now that they’d been forced to choose between each other, _had_ chosen between each other, and were left to decide whether it would make or break them. The only thing Chan can think to do is to open his arms. 

“C’mere,” he said, and everyone (minus Woojin and Seungmin), wrap their arms around each other’s shoulders and pull each other close. They’re all alive, all relatively okay, and Chan _loves_ them more than he could ever say.He pulls Jeongin in on one side and Felix on the other and hopes that he holds them tight enough for them to know, for them to _realise_ that he’s never going to leave them, that as long as he’s around, they’re never going to be alone. 

“I love you guys,” Jisung chokesout, and Chan looks at him. He doesn’t know if he’s surprised or not that the younger boy is crying, quick quiet heaves of breath. Minho murmurs something into his ear, and Chan watches Changbin tighten his hold on the other boys shoulder. Their whole world is burning and ancient fire licks at their feet and all Chan can do is hold on, hold on and burn to ashes. 

“He’s in the combat room,” Jeongin murmurs into his ear. Chan pulls away and leaves them burning. 

 

 

 

Woojin is training when he gets there, throwing knives at a target twenty metres away from him. Chan can tell he knows he’s there, and there’s an ache in Chan’s chest that isn’t from his ribs at the sight of Woojin’s broad shoulders away from him. The older boy throws another knife and Chan can make out the glint of the ring on his hand. He finds himself smiling at the knowledge that Woojin hasn’t taken his off. He watches Woojin for a while, enjoys watching the sharp lines of his shoulders, tapered length of his waist as his muscles tense and relax during the throw. 

“Your angles wrong,” Chan says, and Woojin startles at the sound of his voice bouncing off of the high walls. He still doesn’t turn around. 

“Come and show me, then,” the other boy says and Chan almost melts at the sound of his deep voice, immediately calming him. Chan takes the chance and strides over to his partner, presses himself as close to Woojin as he can. He hears Woojin’s breath catch when he places a hand on Woojin’s waist to keep him in place and the other against his shoulder, pulling it backwards a few degrees. The silence is so profound you could hear a pin drop. 

“Try now,” Chan murmurs. There’s no one else in the room, but this is the kind of moment he’s afraid to break. 

Woojin does. Bullseye. Chan still doesn’t move away, and Chan can feel the muscles on Woojin’s back shifting against his chest as the other boy settles back against him. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Chan murmurs against the other boys neck, and Woojin shivers against him, hands coming up to cover Chan’s own on his waist. He swallows and there’s a hundred miles between them and no distance at all and in another life, they are not assassins and they are not killers and they are _normal_. Chan’s blood sings in the places where he and Woojin touch. The words are there, on the end of his tongue, dripping from his lips. 

“ _Chris_ …” Woojin murmurs. 

“Just,” Chan says, “Just let me hold you for a while, okay?”

Woojin doesn’t say anything for a bit, just turns around in Chan’s arms and wraps his own around Chan’s neck and Chan _needed_ this, needed to have Woojin, real and palpable between his fingers, flesh and bone and beating heart. He presses his lips above Woojin’s ear and rocks them gently. He can feel tears soaking his collar. 

 

“I’m your weak point, Chan,” Woojin says quietly and Chan pulls Woojin away from him reluctantly so he can look at him. He can tell the words hurt Woojin to say it. God, it hurts Chan to hear it. He can’t seem to swallow down the sound of Woojin’s beautiful voice making their relationship into something that sounds like a flaw, a setback when it’s the shape of Woojin’s lips and his hands and his shoulders that keep Chan up and aching all night. He doesn’t say anything. Woojin looks down. 

“I can’t be the reason why we lose one of them,” he says, putting distance between him and Chan, “I just can’t handle it.”

Chan wants to scream, wants to grab Woojin by the shoulders and shake him and tell him _you are the only reason I smile, the only reason I’m still here. I can’t do this without you_ but he doesn’t.

“Woojin,” he says instead, hoping that him saying the other’s name has the same effect on Woojin as Woojin saying his does, “It was the worst situation we’ve ever been in in our lives! If I didn’t choose, both of you would have been out! How was I supposed to choose?”

“I don’t know, Chan, but you managed to! I was telling you ‘save Felix, don’t save me’ but you were selfish!”

“Oh, so it’s selfish to want to protect something i love, now, is it?”

Woojin falters. Chan’s never really said it before.  
“So you don’t love the rest of them?” he counters. 

“No, of course I do, it’s just”

“Just what, Chris?”

“You’re different,” Chan tells him, “You’re different and you know it.”

 

There’s a pregnant pause as Woojin looks away from him, down at his feet and his whole body aches for the need to get things back to normal. They’ve never fought like this before. 

“We’re _assassins_ , we’re not supposed to be,” Woojin makes a vague gesture with his hands, “we’re not supposed to be like _this_.”

“Like _what_? You’re my family, Woojin. You’re all I know in this world - you all are. We make each other stronger. How can you stand there and honestly act like you think the way we are is a weak point?”

“You let Felix get hurt because of your love for _me_ , Chan!” Woojin shouts, “You have no idea how guilty I feel because I can’t stand the thought of knowing our relationship puts the others in danger!”

He’s never felt more lost in his life. 

“Woojin…” he begins, reaching for the older boy. 

“Leave it, Chan,” he spits, “I _love you,_ but we’re part of something much bigger than us. Part of something that doesn’t discriminate between who loves each other more.”

Woojin leaves. It takes a while for Chan to realise that he’s crying, and when he does, he lies down flat on the floor and chokes on his sobs. He stares at the ceiling and doesn’t move for a long, long time. He thinks of Woojin’s lips and his hands and his shoulders and he _aches._ They are all burning, and Chan’s just been singed. 

 

 

*

 

Chan gets called into the Command’s office an hour later. He stands up and wipes his eyes roughly. He knows how bad he must look, but he can’t bring himself to care, too worried about the future of his relationship with the person he’s closest to in this life. He’s never been called into the Command’s office before but he can’t bring himself to care about that, either. He must look like a real mess as he walks to the office. He gets a few sympathetic looks from the various staff members he has to walk past but he can only offer them a weak smile as he reaches the door. He almost just walks in but remembers his manners at the last minute and lifts a heavy hand to knock. He hears a muffle voice telling him to come in and he opens the door carefully, stepping in and letting it shut behind him. Command is an unattractive man - older than fifty with a full head of grey hair and a horrible droopy face. Just seeng him makes Chan angry, knowing that _he_ was the one that put them through what he did a couple of days ago but Chan forces himself to maintain a neutral expression. 

“You look like shit, Chan,” the man says and Chan forces out a humourless laugh. 

“Feel like it too, sir, believe me.”

The man chuckles and gestures for Chan to take a seat, which he does. 

“You probably know what you’re here for, Chan, don’t you?” the man asks and it’s so patronising Chan has to clench his fists from where they’re settled against the arms of the chair. 

“The test?” he offers. 

“Yes, the test. You failed.”

Chan isn’t surprised to hear that. He’s not sure what he was supposed to do during the test but he’s almost certain is isn’t what he _did_ do. They’ve never failed a test before and Chan isn’t quite sure what’s going to happen. 

“Your reactions were most interesting,” the man continues, “It seems watching Woojin die _broke_ you.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, just focuses on keeping his breathing under control. 

“You’re the leader, Chan. You were supposed to remain calm, comfort the others, tell them what to do.”  
“You took my partner away from me,” Chan says through gritted teeth, “You made me believe he was dead. How was I supposed to remain calm?”

The man smiles, but there’s not a hint of kindness in it. Chan can feel the fear in his chest. 

“You’re the leader of an _assassination team._ You love them too much.”

“You _made_ me love them! You raised us together! You made us live together!”

He shrugs, then smiles again. 

“Still, failing deserves punishment, don’t you think?”

 

Chan jumps when two metal bands are clasped around his wrists, effectively trapping him into the chair. He struggles against the bonds, kicking out with his feet but his chair has been strategically placed so there’s nothing in kicking distance. He mentally kicks himself, he should have known that this was a trap - he’s trained to pick up these sorts of things.

“What are you doing?” he spits, “Why are you doing this?”  
“You need to learn your lesson,” Command says. He steps away from the back wall, which had previously been a bookcase but suddenly blinks to life as a TV monitor. Chan finds himself wondering whether _anything_ is real life around here. The monitor shows black for a few seconds, and Chan continues struggling, rubbing his wrists raw against the metal restraining him. Command simply watches him struggle. A thousand thoughts run through his mind, not a single one of them good. He thinks of his team, Woojin, Felix, the rest of them. He can’t warn them, he can’t tell them to run, can’t tell them he loves them. He’s left them alone, _again_. Suddenly, the monitor blinks to lifeand Chan feels sick to his stomach when he sees the training room, still in the same grey concrete design it had been a couple of days ago. It’s empty, except for a white sheet in the middle. Chan squints at the image, and when he sees what’s under the sheet, he turns to command, eyes pleading. 

“Who is it?” he begs. Command throws his head back and laughs. 

“There’s a commotion on the screen and Chan hears the familiar sound of the training room door sliding open and then Woojin is there, rushing out into the training room. Chan feels a weight lift off his shoulders at the knowledge that it’s not Woojin there underneath the sheet.The older is still dressed in his training gear and Chan’s breath catches when he sees that Woojin had abandoned the quiver of arrows he usually uses because he can’t tie it on his own. The door slides shut behind Woojin and his partner is left to his own devices. 

“Who’s under there?” he asks again, trying his best to keep the shake out of his voice but he gets no answer. 

 

He forces himself to watch the screen, watch Woojin scan the room with his bow raised before rushing to the body. He watches the other boy hesitate, then kneel down. The camera angle changes, and Chan can see Woojin’s face clearly. He looks heartbreakingly beautiful, eyes wide, mouth drawn down at the edges into the beginning of a frown. Woojin’s hands are shaking as he reaches for the edge of the sheet. Chan holds his breath just as Woojin takes a deep one and drags the sheet back. They both gasp, but Chan imagines it’s for different reasons because, underneath the sheet is _Chan’s body_. Except it’s not, because Chan’s here and is he _dead_? Has he been dead this whole time?  
“You’re not dead,” Command says, and Chan starts struggling again, trying to reach him with his legs so he can beat the _living daylights_ out of him. Command cackles again, “He just thinks you are.” 

Chan whips his head back to the screen, hands shaking as he watches Woojin try to wake him, tries to feel for a heartbeat. 

“ _Woojin!_ ” Chan shouts, “Woojin!”  
“He can’t hear you,” the other man says. 

“ _Shut up_.”

Chan watches, heartbroken as Woojin tries desperately to save him. He’s crying, beautiful eyes dripping tears onto ‘Chan’’s lifeless face. 

“I’m sorry,” Woojin wails, cupping Chan’s face, “I’m sorry.”

Chan can’t do anything, can’t reach him. 

“I forgive you,” Woojin sobs, “Please come back, I forgive you.”

He pulls Chan’s upper body into his lap and cradles him in his arms, rocking him back and forth like he’s alive enough to appreciate it. Chan shakes his head and turns away from the monitor but he can’t block out the sounds of Woojin’s screams.

“Oh,” Command says, “You’ll definitely want to see this.”

Chan can’t help it, he eyes the screen again just in time to see Woojin press a teary kiss to ‘his’ lips and he’s so _angry_ that Woojin thinks he’s dead, that Woojin thinks he’s never going to kiss him back. 

“I love you,” Woojin sobs, “I’m sorry.”

Chan’s so _angry_ that Woojin thinks he’s dead, that Woojin thinks he’s never going to know, never going to kiss him back. 

“What do you want from me?” Chan asks, “I’ll do anything."  
He’s past dignity, past his pride. All he wants now is Woojin in his arms. 

“I want you to _learn your lesson_.”  
“I have!” Chan screams, “Trust me, I’ve learnt my _fucking_ lesson!”  
Command smiles one last time and then the metal bracelets holding Chan in place are retreating and Chan can’t even lay a hand on that disgusting man because he’s scared of what’ll happen if he does. He just stands up, takes a last look at the screen and then _runs straight into the flames_.

 

He sprints to the prep room and barrels past all of the staff that try to stop him, throwing the door to the prep room open and slams the ‘emergency open’ button down so hard he’s half sure that he’s broken it. The door into the training room starts sliding open and he’s already shouting Woojin’s name through the gap, and when it’s large enough, he slides his body through. Sure enough, Woojin is sitting in the middle of the room, the body half in his lap. 

“Woojin!” Chan exclaims and Woojin is stuttering, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. 

“C-chan?” he asks, “B-but you’re dead.”

He looks down at Chan’s body and then at the Chan standing at the entrance. 

“It’s fake,” Chan rushes out and he can’t stop staring at the body in Woojin’s lap. It looks exactly like him, “The body’s fake. Command trapped me in his office and forced me to watch.”

He makes to rush to Woojin’s side but Woojin backs away, putting the body back on the floor.

“How do I know?” he asks shakily, a knife pointed out in front of him. 

Chan puts his hands up, thinking it best to stay still. 

“Ask me anything,” Chan says, “Ask me anything only I will know.”

Woojin pauses to think, hand shaking where it’s outstretched. 

“The first,” he starts, voice quiet but gradually getting louder, more confident, “The first thing I ever said to you.”  
Woojin swallows, eyes flicking from the body to the real Chan. Chan licks his lips and thinks back to that day - the best day of his life. He takes a few steps towards Woojin, maintaining the eye contact. 

“You said, _let’s be friends forever.”_

They had been very young when they’d met, barely five, with Chan fresh out of Australia. Woojin let out a choked off sob and pushed himself up from the floor before promptly throwing himself into Chan’s arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpers, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chan shushes him and smooths a hand through his hair, holding onto him as tight as he can. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, “It’s all over now.”

Woojin sobs, and Chan lowers him to the floor and lets him. He keeps murmuring hopefully soothing words against his hair, stroking a hand against his back. 

“Please don’t _ever_ leave my side,” Chan says, laughing through his own tears, but Woojin just clings tighter, shaking his head. 

“Not planning to,” he replies.

 

 

 

They don’t get stopped when they leave the training building hand in hand, and they practically sprint home, bursting through the doors. Immediately, the other seven of them rush to the door to meet them and practically tackle them into a huge hug. 

“ _Broken ribs,_ ” Chan moans but he’s laughing against Woojin’s temple and then he’s crying, and they’re all crying and they’re his _family,_ they make each other so much stronger. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Woojin whispers to him amongst the tears, repeating Chan’s own words from what feels like a lifetime ago. Chan nods. 

“Me too.”

 

Later, when Chan’s looking at his bruised ribs in the white light of the bathroom mirror, Woojin walks in, closes the door behind him, pushes Chan back against the sink and kisses him. Chan responds immediately, it’s reflex for one of his hands to go to Woojin’s hair and the other to his waist, reflex for him to pull Woojin impossibly closer, bite down on the fullness of the older’s bottom lip then lick into his mouth to soothe it. 

“ _Chris_ ,” Woojin gasps out, voice angelic and dripping honey and - 

“Woojin-hyung and Chan-hyung are making out in the bathroom!” Jisung’s voice sounds from outside the door and then everyone else is cheering and rushing into the bathroom to congratulate them and Woojin’s pulling away from him mouth to lay his head on his shoulder in defeat. 

“Sorry our first kiss was with your fake dead body,” Woojin whispers, but not quiet enough, apparently, because Hyunjin gasps from next to them and Chan is honestly wondering how they managed to get nine of them in their tiny bathroom. 

“Your fake _what_?” he asks and there’s another huge commotion and Chan just shakes his head and laughs, promising to explain later. 

“I love you,” he tells Woojin later that night, and Woojin’s breath catches in his throat. The older starts shuffling around a little and Chan’s about to ask Woojin what he’s doing when Woojin makes a pleased noise and pulls his hand out from under the covers to reveal a silver band - _Chan’s_ silver band. He smiles, and Woojin pulls Chan’s left hand forward to slide the ring onto the fourth finger instead of the third. Chan lets out a laugh and pulls Woojin’s own left hand forward, swapping the ring onto the fourth finger and pressing a kiss to the metal. 

“Love you too,” Woojin says, before claiming Chan’s mouth in a kiss. 

 

Things are changing and they’re burning and dangerous and white hot to the touch, hurtling towards the flames but as long as the nine of them are together, you’ll always be able to find them in the ashes. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> well, you made it through, lol. woochan are such a soft, calm ship and ive been dying to put them into one of these more action-filled fics just to see how if i could make it seem natural. honestly, in terms of reality and characterisation, i think chan would have saved felix in the test, just because woojin wanted him to and because chan is a really selfless person but for the sake of the fic plot i had to make him choose woojin lmao! uhh in case you couldn't already tell, this fic signified the end of their 'training period' and if i do ever write anything else for this au, they'll be actually going on missions and killing people hehe. ANYWAY, i really hope you enjoyed reading, i understand that there's probably a few plotholes in here so if you have any questions, PLS let me know!!! (p.s im really sorry for making our babies suffer. they didn't deserve this). thank you!!!


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